


Distractions

by Fluidfyre



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Nudity, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 01:18:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3155456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluidfyre/pseuds/Fluidfyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taliah Lavellan is well aware of the focus and time commitment that completing a fresco in the rotunda takes, but that doesn't keep her from trying to distract Solas. And it doesn't keep him from paying her back. After Adamant, before the Winter Palace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

            The sun had not yet breached the mountain peaks when Taliah Lavellan opened her eyes, turning in bed to let her hand find Solas’ waist. His breath was even and deep in sleep, and her lips found his shoulder. She gave his ass a squeeze for good measure before carefully getting out of bed and tucking the covers against his back in her wake.  

            She was accustomed to the early hour, had she been in her clan, she would have risen with the birds in that ephemeral haze of pre-dawn. Setting and checking snares and back in time for when the fires were lit. Now the small hours of morning had crafted another routine, inside the stone, so far from the wilds that it made her ache to think of it. She hastily dressed in the cold, the fire ash, and she hopped from rug to rug until her bare feet were adjusted to the cold.

            There were reports and missives were on her desk from the night before, and Taliah took them and headed down through the tower. She found a place at Varric’s table, where the fire was always roaring, but at this hour, she was all but alone in the great hall. Currant bannock was waiting for her, wrapped in cloth, and it brought a smile as she sat and read through the parchment. The bread crumbled on her shirt, and it was only when she’d finished the stack of reading that she stood up and they fell to the floor. The hall stirring now, the main doors had been thrown open, and morning light was streaming in, clearing the smoke from the fires.  

            Routine was now their morning meeting in the war room, where Taliah drew up their next moves, with missives for messengers and heated discussions between Cullen and Leliana. Josephine had a red tea from Antiva that they both drank while the pair hashed it out, finally relenting when Taliah found them a compromise. Consent and approval, summaries of troop movement and supply lines, recovering from the siege of Adamant.  It always left her thoughts thick, full from decisions and discussion, and at the end Taliah just wished silence. Her feet carried her through the rotunda, only to find Solas up and on the scaffold, sketching the sinopia for the next panel in the fresco.

            “Can I get you anything?” she called. Solas didn’t reply, his focus so wholly upon the wall. His arm moved in grand gestures to pattern out the panel. Taliah smiled and went about her day, knowing it would be many hours before he left the room again. It was a jog around the ramparts, and disappearing down and out of the castle into the mountains to escape all the people. The walls were home now, but there were times it still felt like a cage. In a cloak to stave off the cold, she jogged and skirted the army, through the trees until there was no one else around. It had startled her advisors when she first did it, but now, now they knew she needed her space. Even if it was cold as the Void. She wasn’t hunting every day, she wasn’t protecting the clan, and they were in the fortress for at least two days more. She needed to move.

            The afternoon was filled with petitions that kept her seated in the throne, with Josphine at her side as commoners and nobility alike met to plead with the Inquisition. The dragon’s maw never felt right under her, the teeth too large, and her frame dwarfed by it. The petitions moved to private meetings and dignitaries, and Taliah missed protocol more than once, the only give-away the tweak in Josephine’s expression. Court etiquette lessons followed, as did those in Orlesian nobility with Leliana. The sun had set behind the mountains and the dinner guests in the main hall had retired to their rooms or the tavern by the time she was able to prepare a plate in the kitchen and return to the rotunda.

            The nearly complete fresco was no less a surprise than the others, and Taliah’s footsteps slowed as her eyes traced up over the hues of the Grey Wardens, It was four-fifths done, the scaffold pushed aside, and Solas sat on a stool to paint the last few feet along the floor. The library above was quiet and dark, and he hummed low as he worked, brush moving in even strokes.

            She approached and laid a hand on his shoulder as he paused, and she put the plate on his thigh. “I figured that you probably haven’t eaten.”

            Solas’ eyes pulled from his brush to her face, the focus softening into a smile as he saw her, and the cheese and seed-filled bread she brought him. “I had not… ma serannas, vhenan.”

            Taliah’s hand lingered along the collar of his sweater, fingers coming to rest on the back of his neck. “Beautiful as ever.”

            “Not yet done,” he said, before a slice of cheese disappeared past his lips. He ate a few bites quickly, eyes on where his brush had been last. “Soon.”

            “Oh? Soon mm…” Taliah let her fingers glide up the back of his head, and leant to kiss his skin.

            “Yes. I will find you then, I assure you,” he said, putting the plate on the ground between his feet and the brush stroking again.

            Her hands trailed down his back. Taliah tilted her head  and watched him before she said, “I might stay.”

            “If you’d like,” he murmured, without looking at her. Another colour was on the brush, blending them together on the plaster. He took a wedge of bread with his free hand.

            Lips pressing to the apex of his head, Taliah’s hands rest on either side of his neck, thumbs pressing down in tight whorls, before slipping over his sweater to follow curvature of his shoulders. They returned, never parting from him, a defined pressure that descended his spine down past his waist. Her lips in turn found a new place at the base of his skull, a soft kiss that roused a ticklish shrug, and a sound that betrayed a grin. She squatted behind him, mimicking his posture, her hands on his waist so that she could lay her head high on his back. With her eyes closed, she could feel his subtle movements as he worked, the flex and stretch of musculature beneath his sweater tunic, and the even pace of his breath. In turn, she inhaled deeply, the smell of him, a thrill and a comfort at the end of a long day.

            “Era seranna ma, I must move,” Solas said, and his free hand touched where hers had come to rest on his hip, standing to shift a meter sideways.

            Taliah stayed where she was a moment, before shuffling sideways to follow, hands around his waist again, and she kissed the back of his neck. Fingers sought the hem of his tunic, bunching fabric until they were satisfied with the skin they found at his sides. There was a clip of sound in Solas’ throat as a hand spread across his stomach, the other tucking a thumb into the waist of his leggings.

            “That is hardly fair,” he whispered.

            “I wasn’t aware fairness was an integral part of our relationship.”

            Solas harrumphed once, the brush still moving with the same care to capture the details at the bottom of the Grey Warden crest. His brow was as straight a line as his lips while her fingers strummed down over his loins, and he shook his head, brush dipping into his palette. He stopped her other hand in place on his stomach, linking fingers together to prevent its egress.

            Taliah smiled against his back, fingers strumming once more on his crotch. She spoke only loud enough for it to reach him. “Prefer my hands be elsewhere?”

            “I cannot stop yet. You know this.”

            Fingers freed, they withdrew to  his shoulders, and she bent to her lips were by his ear. They scarce touched his skin. “Difficulty concentrating?”

            “I,” Solas said, and there was a soft sound. “Hardly.”

            Taliah let her nose trace up the length of his ear, and she sighed. There was a ripple of tension across Solas’ shoulders. “I could always just speak. You’ve a good imagination, thinking of my hands, my lips, my tongue. You’ve had a long day, I only want to help you relax.”

            “Yes, only that,” Solas chuckled, grinning close-lipped despite himself. He stopped only a moment when her mouth opened on his neck, releasing an even breath through his nose. His reply matched her volume, “You think this will get you what you wish?”

            “Are you sure this isn’t what I want?” Taliah whispered. Lips graced the edge of his ear again, her tongue a sliver against her lips. Her hand cradled the opposite side of his neck, thumb on his spine and fingers on his throat as she kissed his skin again. “No, you’re right. This is hardly enough skin for my lips.”

            “I cannot stop,” Solas said in an exhalation, even as his eyes momentarily lost focus.

            “I know,” Taliah said, and stood up more, kissing the top of his head again. She squeezed his shoulder before she turned away.

            He looked in time to see the natural sway of her gait as she walked into the hallway, and let a pent breath seep out his nose. Shaking his head, throat thick, he picked up his paints and worked with renewed haste, while the intonaco was still damp.

            Out through the door into the main hall, Taliah found Varric and one of their suppliers sitting by the fire and drinking, and made a bee-line for the table. A quick smile and Varric poured her a drink, her thoughts invariably back to where Solas sat painting in the rotunda. Varric was talking about an explosion at a warehouse, and something about Hawke without pants, and the dwarven supplier laughed, his posture already lax in the seat. Taliah leant a hip on the table and sipped the spiced brandy. The glass was empty and the merchant was getting brash by the time Solas cleared his throat, having appeared at Taliah’s elbow some time later.

            “Inquisitor,” Solas said, stressing the word. “Have you a moment?”

            “Of course, Solas,” Taliah said, her smile loosed by the drink that mellowed her. She glanced at him, only to be met with his usual codger’s mask. 

            “Pour you a drink, Chuckles?”

            Taliah met Varric’s glance with a lopsided grin.

            “No,” Solas said, a touch of his hand on Taliah’s elbow. “Thank you. If you’ll excuse us.”

            Taliah licked her lips as they retreated across the great hall. The candles were burnt down and the fires low. “So very cordial and polite.”

            “Unlike the actions of some others.” His hand now spread across the small of her back, urging their steps towards her door.

            “You finished the panel.”

            “I did,” he said, and laid a hand on the door knob. Once open, he directed her through into the dim, cold stairwell.         

            “What can _the Inquisitor_ do for you—“ Taliah’s words clipped away into his mouth, his hand finding the small of her back again. He held her steadfast, encouraging her lips apart to deepen the kiss, bending her pliant, and his other hand clasped her neck. Solas had her backside against the wooden rail when he broke away, kissed the tip of her nose before he made for the stairs.

            Taliah buoyed and opened her eyes to see him at the turn in the stairs, scarce a glance her way. Her grin returned as she followed surefooted.  He was up the stairs ahead of her, forcing her take them double-time to keep up. The fire blazed warmer at a trained motion from his hand, and he was waiting for her as she rounded the stairs. It was a hand that slipped round her waist, fingers pressing over her stomach, his chest at her shoulder as he kissed the curve of her jaw. Taliah turned as his other hand gathered fabric towards her breasts, tugging the clasps on her shirt as he pressed against her back.

            Any smart-ass reply evaporated as he pinned her against him, hard-on pressed to her backside and his lips in her neck. Her own hands sought his, getting the last buttons open to let his fingers have her skin, gripping as he urged her the few steps to the sofa by the stairs. The armrest hit her in the thighs, his breathe a sigh by her ear, teeth on the lobe before he murmured, “Bend over.”         

            Taliah reached over the ornate sofa as Solas’ hips urged her against it, his hand now ascending her spine, bunching her shirt higher. He ground against her ass as he kissed in the wake of his fingers, tongue swirling out. A ragged breath escaped from her lips, and she hung her head, fingers coiled into the refined brocade fabric on the pillowed seat. Another roll of his hips and his erection followed in the cleft of her ass and sex, fabric denying her. Her sigh out rattled into a whispered moan, and his own breathy chuckle replied.

            Rocking back, Solas snagged the waist of Taliah’s pants and shucked them to her knees, sinking in the same fluid motion. His hands dragged round the curve of her ass and thighs, nails glancing her skin, and she tensed into the sofa. He kissed her left cheek, leaving his nose and resting his head that his breath exhaled against the curled hairs of her sex, while his hand found a place high on her inner thigh. Her toes dragged off the floor as he touched higher, shifting her weight onto the arm of the sofa, the top of her head now down on the pillow as she exhaled out. His knee sunk onto her pants in response, trapping her feet against the cold floor as he nipped her backside.

            A sigh of his breath was there again, and Solas drew a thumb down the outer lips of her sex as her said, “A long day for my hands. Perhaps I should retire for the evening.”

            When his thumb ran over her clit, Taliah’s knee jerked what little space it could into the sofa. She was shaking her head. “Please don’t.”

            “Oh?” The tip of his nose touched the damp lips of her sex, and for just a moment his tongue on her clit.

            It prompted a hard groan into the pillow, the brocade wrinkling in the tight fists she made. His mouth was gone though, his nose too, and just his hand ascended her inner thigh. He pinched skin when she drew breath and said, “That’s not fair...”

            “I wasn’t aware fairness was an integral part of our relationship.” He nipped at her ass cheek again, taking more skin in the bite, and Taliah jerked into the sofa again, a rueful laugh into the fabric. She shook her head, steadying her balance into the arm of it and reached back for him.

            Solas caught her wrist before she could touch anything but her hip. He held it against the arm, and she drew it back when he let go. A hand went to his leggings to slip them off his hips, the other on the small of her back tracing the vertebrae.

            “I deserve this,” she said, the sound muffled into the cushion.

            “Yes.” He gave her ass cheek a squeeze, pressing her against the sofa arm as he leant forward, cock in hand and head pressed against her nether lips. Taliah’s breath huffed out hard, and he rolled his hips in succession to slick the strokes flush into her.

            “Ahhgh…” The sound muffled into the sofa, devolved into her satisfied moan.

            Solas’ hands were up her back, eyes on her skin, the curve of her spine, her ass and thighs, relishing their taught, strained tension against his own. He only had a small shake of the head before he ground against her again, and bent over to taste her skin, before gathering his bunched sweater and tossing it past her on the sofa. His hands were on her waist, encircling as he gnashed skin, each roll of his hips a defined grind that brought him deep, that strained her thighs against the hard edge of the sofa.

            Taliah’s hands crawled higher on the pillow, forward if she possibly could to undulate with his slow grinds. Her cheeks were hot, breath around her face and cheek in the pillow, rising on her toes to urge her ass against him. Each roll of his hips came slow, the full length, urging deep, his hands, lips, and teeth moving with the same deliberate pace to knead and savor her skin.

            Hands snaked round her chest to pull Taliah up from the pillows, and Solas’ arms laced across her. His breath was by her ear, and lips in her neck, an arm round her waist, and the other up to hold her shoulder as he ground against her. It was a subtle motion of his thighs, rolling her into his arms with each deliberate thrust, and her eyes plucked open when his lips traced her ear. Taliah’s hands were over his, unsteady on her feet and pinned against the arm of the sofa. When she went to touch herself, he took her hand.

            There was a rough chuckle in Solas’ throat, a murmur on his lips that sent a thrill down her spine, and his teeth graced her ear. Their hands together found her clit, and Taliah groaned, heavy in his arms as he pushed deep.

            “Yes,” she hissed in an exhalation, his mouth in her neck, eyes closed to fall into the rhythm of their bodies, her rising pulse and rush through her.

            Solas’ lips opened just beneath her jawline, his own breath heavy when his hips came to stop in her. He kissed her neck and shoulder, fingers pulling her hand from her clit and pulling out of her too. Taliah had to put her hands out on the sofa to steady herself, a keening groan escaping.

            He paced past the fireplace, tugging off his leggings and neatly folding them to leave on her desk, his ass aglow from the firelight. Taliah had scarce pulled to her feet, legs weak as she sucked a breath through her nose.

            “What is it?”

            Solas’ smirk and the arch of his brow were illuminated by the fire too, his face half-turned to her. He licked his lips as he strode back, lingering by the bed. “Tomorrow will come too soon, it would be wise for us to rest in preparation for the expedition west.”

            Her lips parted, no, her jaw dropped. For a moment she stood with her pants around her ankles, shirt unbuttoned and bunched high on her back. Then she was pulling off the pants, shirt crumpled onto the couch as she advanced on him. “I don’t think so.”

            “Oh?” Try as he might, the remnant of a grin was there in his lips as he turned to her.

            “I’m not tired yet,” Taliah said and planted her hands on his chest.

            Solas let his steps take him back against the bed, his grin growing. “A pity.”

            Taliah pushed him back onto the bed, and his chuckle was there. She straddled his thighs, hand on his chest to push him back against the bed. Planting a hand beside his head, the firelight came up between them, illuminating his contented smile as she leant over him. Her knees slipped further apart, free hand down between them to take his still hard shaft in a slow stroke, their lips hovering close as he still smiled.

            “Unless you really want to stop…”

            Solas shook his head, even as a hand met her firm abdomen, stop her from sitting on his cock, and Taliah’s groan became a smile. Their lips brushed, and his parted to welcome the kiss as she stroked him at the same deliberate pace as he had taken her on the couch. His hand dragged down her pelvis, and with a traced glyph, icy cold fingers sank into her wet lips. Taliah gasped into his mouth, and their kiss broke, his chuckle and grin there in the space between them. Her arm weakened to let them rest forehead-to-forehead, noses touching and lips close, his cold fingers buried deep and rolling with the same slow pace as her hand.

            Even as she shivered, Taliah’s liquid eyes met his, and she quickened her strokes. The chill seemed to throb in her, and in the next moment she kissed him again, tongues easily met with a force and challenge. When his thumb brushed over her clit, her thighs weakened, pressing her sex into his hand more fully, tongues rolling together. Solas’ free arm found a place around her neck, crook of his elbow holding her against him as they kissed, quick sucks and pants for air between their lips as he met her gaining pace.

            “Tel’felas,” she gasped against his lips, and she braced her free arm on the bed, stroking him roughly as he responded. His lips were in her neck, the cold in his grasp ebbing and letting the sensation build higher deep within her. The anchor sparked green as she felt a buffet of his mana, it had been there before, a hum through her, and she rocked forward. Solas’ head moved to snag her pert breast in his mouth, teeth raking skin and nipple to clamp and elicit a sweet cry from Taliah. Her hips rode forward into him, lost in the sudden crest and undulation, but he never abated, carrying her through it even as her own hand slowed to brace on his chest.

            Her breast came free of his mouth with a smack, and a breath rattled out of Taliah. Solas’ fingers dragged out of her as their eyes met, and both their hands came to his shaft to finally let her sit and take him. Strong fingers gripped his shoulders, the light of the anchor on his skin as she ground against him, sitting up to let the weight of her down upon him completely. His own breath matched her intensity, and his hands crawled up her back to drag her back down into his lips, leaving a wet slick on her skin. It was met with a grunt as she ground harder with a swivel of her hips, tongue and lips touching and lapping, fraught with breath and pants.  

            A hand stayed up her back, the other gripping tight at her hip, fingers pressing down her ass cheek to rock her with him. Solas’ mouth was in her neck again, hard breath on her skin, and Taliah wrapped an arm round his neck, her own lips finding his ear and rousing a clipped sigh from him. He enveloped her, a bruising embrace that pinned her down against him, hand splayed on her backside as their rolling grind slowed.

            The dizzying rush was ebbing, breath still hard, and his lips closed on her shoulder. His hands on either side of her, arms crossed possessively around her lithe frame. Solas kissed her ear, her cheek, lips smearing in adoration, taking the side of her mouth before she moved to kiss him back. He exhaled a hard breath through his nose, kissing her chin and down the underside of her throat, arms still around her. Taliah slumped aside as he rolled, arm trapped under his neck. His expression softened as their eyes met, and she ran her left hand over his jaw in reply. His lips pressed into the anchor, his nose and brow underlit green, his eyes never leaving her.

            “I hope you’re as tired as I am.”

            Solas smiled, the expression in his eyes, spreading across his face, full and whole. “Sleep is always welcome.”

            “Here?” Her roving hand made its way down his neck and chest.

            His hand was on her ass, dragging down her thigh, leg still draped over his hips. “Yes.”

            She kissed him again, a pang in her chest even as her pulse subsided. He nipped at her lips and gave her thigh a squeeze. A low sigh seeped from her before she rolled aside, on all fours on the bed. He gave her ass a light smack before she threw the covers back over his face.

            The cold blankets were a relief on the skin, and Taliah took Solas’ hand as it drifted over her hip, wrapping it round her. The arm under her neck crossed over her chest too, holding her against his chest, skin-to-skin, his breath in her neck. She drew his fingers to her lips, kissing over the knuckles that smelt of her.

            “Ar lath ma.”

            Solas sighed, nose and lips in her neck, kissing behind her ear. “Ar ma.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Elven used (most referenced from the DAI wiki):  
> Ma serannas -- Thank you  
> Era seranna ma -- Excuse me  
> Tel'felas -- Don't slow  
> Ar lath ma -- I love you  
> Ar ma -- (roughly) And I you.


End file.
